


help me piece it all together, darling

by Beastrage



Series: illuminate our stories [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: A lot of nasty implications, Canon Compliant, Casually mentioned child death, Character Study, Dubious Morality, Gen, Kingdom Hearts Chi spoilers, Kingdom Hearts III Spoilers, Look I like the guy but I wouldn't trust him with children, Manipulation, Mentioned Foretellers, Mentioned Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Metafiction, Or the Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 11:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19700488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beastrage/pseuds/Beastrage
Summary: In which Sora is what's in the Black Box.





	help me piece it all together, darling

**Author's Note:**

> Based on kamiddani's theory on 'Sora is Lux.' They've written some good stuff, go check it out!

The Master of Masters finds the first piece washed up on the shoreline, where the sea meets the land. Holding it up to the sky, it glows brighter than the sun. 

With careful examination, he can see who this fragment used to be. For this is a piece of someone’s Heart he holds in hand, a piece that has somehow survived so much to end up at his booted feet. 

The Heart of the boy he’s seen so many times when he looks to the Future, the boy who carries his Heart on his sleeve and gives all to everyone he runs across. Whether it’s his Keyblade or his friendship. Or even both, at times. 

“I suppose you can’t have your Heart on your sleeve anymore,” he speaks aloud, fingers stroking along the quivering shard. “Not when it’s in my hand.”

So small. Not even as big as his pinky finger. Just one of what must be many to find. To seek out. To gather. 

For what is his Tale, his Future, without its main star?

No, no, the show must go on. The boy will rise again, even if the Master has to wrap the Present up as a gift to the Future. 

The Lux, as he calls the tiny Heart shards, are as delicate as they are hardy. Always seeking other Hearts to hold tight to, whether it be fellow Lux or Hearts belonging to complete strangers. 

They stick to his gloves, the ones he finds scattered along the sea, desperately seeking out his Heart. 

“Good thing I’m wearing this cloak, would hate to think what would happen if your Heart merged with mine.” He shakes his head. “What a mess!”

The Lux, unsurprisingly, does not talk back. Only hums, with power and magic. 

“Don’t worry, kid, I’ll take good care of you.”

  
  


He crafts a miracle of a Box, a special Box to protect this gathered Lux. 

But one person cannot gather it all, no matter how powerful.  _ Seven  _ people cannot gather it all, if he includes his apprentices in this quest. 

So many pieces, scattered everywhere. A thousand lifetimes to find them all. 

He would need an army...an army, like the one he Saw fighting the great War of the Future? 

That seems right. Just perfect. 

As for who to make up that army...well, there are orphans everywhere across the World. Children that no one wants, children whose parents struggle to feed. Lives without purpose, thrown aside like so much trash. Much his own apprentices were, at one point in their lives. 

This quest, this search...it’ll give their lives purpose and direction. A better life, than being useless trash. 

The Master of Masters nods to himself, mind decided. 

“Time to run a recruitment drive.”

It’s mildly surprising, even to him, how many children end up signing up to collect Lux. Like it’s some silly game. Which it is, in a way. That’s how he set it up, to attract the children in the first place. 

But still...there are  _ so many _ . From across all of the World. Hundreds, all raring up to wield a Keyblade, to fight with their friends and make new ones. Too many for him to possibly teach them all. 

Good thing he has his apprentices. 

“You want us to  _ what _ ?”

“To teach them, of course!” The Master swings his hands up behind his head, cheerful all the while. “You would make excellent teachers, for these children!” 

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure? Am I  _ sure? _ ” The Master laughs. “Of course I am! I  _ trust _ you! All of you!”

Those magic words are always enough to make his apprentices, his lovely apprentices, to puff up in pride. And agree with him, of course. They can do the teaching, the leading. All while he prepares for the Future ahead. 

The Lux is scattered across all of time and space. So now the Master of Masters has his army to gather it, but where must they go? 

That is, of course, where the Book of Prophecies comes in. Where the data manipulation that he taught to his apprentices comes into play. Carefully, they piece the Worlds of the Future into data-scapes where the children can go forth. Fighting the data-Heartless that serve as markings for Lux locations. 

Some win, some lose. Some disappear into the Dark, while others rise to the top. To titles that will mean nothing when enough Lux is gathered. When more Lux enters the Box, something quite interesting occurs: the slowly growing Heart Dreams. Dreams of the Worlds it visited, of the friends it made in the process. 

Adds more and more detail to the Worlds formed by the Book of Prophecy, as the Dreams grow more detailed, more fluid. More missions, more data-people to interact with. All fueled by the boy’s Dreaming Heart. 

Lessens the complaints as a result, as the Worlds seem more and more real. Only the complaints about Agrabah’s sand remains, and that’s only to be expected. 

(Stupid sand. So hard to animate that many grains!)

The boy’s Heart is a brilliant Light. So, therefore, there must be more Light than Dark in this careful crafting of his. Due to the Lux’s delicate nature, though, the pieces can easily fall to Darkness just as easily they glow with their inner Light. Too easily, especially if the finder of the Lux is Dark of Heart. 

An easy problem to mitigate!

“Now, you have to remember,” he lectures his apprentices, pacing back and forth, “You have to protect the Light whenever possible. That means no using Darkness, got it? Not you, not your Guilds.” 

They all cry out their assent, nearly tripping over themselves in the process. So young, so eager to please. 

He’ll get no trouble from that quarter. 

But a Heart cannot be  _ just  _ Light. Only Princesses of Heart fill that criteria and their creation is something unnatural, forced into being once the War on the horizon begins and ends. Is, or will be? Tenses are  _ hard _ , when you’re constantly seeing the Future. 

No, no, the boy needs Darkness too. Not too much, but just enough to paint the rage-filled creature the Master of Masters has sketched out on paper so many times into being. 

How does he gather Darkness, though, when he’s carefully hammered into his apprentices’ heads that Light is Good and Dark is Bad? 

“Every time I fix a problem, there’s five more that pop up!” He moans, throwing his hands into the air. Little Spirits in their vials, surrounding him, chirp and curl up into their adorable little balls. An audience that has no way of comprehending his desperate need. 

Cute, though. Very cute. Just like how he designed them to be. 

Hmm. The Master glances at the nearest one, all fluffy and about ready to leave its glass womb for good. 

“You’re so cute, aren’t you?” he coos, leaning closer to the Spirit’s container. “So, so adorable! Anyone would trust that face!”

The Spirit chirps and wiggles in place, tail wagging and buzzing with energy. Very trustworthy. Any kid would take a present from it in a heartbeat, and never let go. 

A present...a present that could gather the Darkness the more one used it? Used to power up...used it for their Keyblade. Wouldn’t taint their tiny hearts, no, no, not right away. But just enough Dark to trickle into some of the Lux...for the boy. 

A bracelet of some kind, a bracer...his pen moves across the page, quickly sketching out this new device. This ‘Power Bangle,’ as he labels underneath the finished doodle. 

Can’t be calling it Darkness, the power that this new bangle will give. Too on the nose and no one will use it. How about...?

He taps his fingers against his desk, before snapping his fingers. “Guilt! That’s it! Perfect.”

The cloaked head shifts over to look at the Spirit with unseen eyes. 

“Are you ready to help me?” he croons to the happy little Spirit. “Ready to help out your new friends?” One hand reaches over to tap away at the glass and the Spirit happily reciprocates with its own cheerful tapping. 

“I see that you are.” 

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. 

  
  


Or almost perfect. There’s so much to do in so little time! Have to forge that special Keyblade, the one with his eye, for Luxu to pass on. Have to make sure the Box is properly sealed. Tell his apprentices his final instructions. 

Yet there’s still more to the Future he Sees, the Future that’s full of many faces. Most are strangers, but a few...familiar. Children he’s seen running through the streets, on their missions for ever more Lux. 

For those faces to exist in that far-off Future, he must do something Now that gets them there...or so the logic goes. Good thing there’s Ava, who is determined to do more, determined to do so much for the children in her Guild. All of her apprentices are similarly determined, he must admit, but Ava is so much  _ more _ . Overflowing and overwhelming. Caring. (She deserves better than what’s coming. They all do.)

Telling her about the Dandelions (as he calls them), he specifies a few that must join, but leaves the rest of the choosing to her discretion. 

My, his apprentices are so good at following orders! The Master couldn’t do half of what needs to be done without them. 

(Even if they must fail, for the last steps to come into play. For Luxu to succeed.)

  
  


His time is drawing near now. He’s woken far too many, used to much of himself to make things Real. The Spirits, the Worlds, his apprentices...so much activity has drained him. Much like the boy did, in that far off Future. 

He won’t need anyone to gather  _ his  _ Heart, of course. But time? Yes, time and plenty of it. Until the Future itself comes, that’s when the Master will return, of course. He’s Seen it.

The Box is full of so much Lux, overwhelming amounts of it. Yet, not all of it. Not yet. 

The boy’s form flickers in and out like corrupted data. Possible that he’ll accidentally slip out of the Box, if not secured properly inside. 

The Master carefully forges a special chain, a chain just as special as the nameless Keyblade that lays there, staring at him with its singular blue eye. Hooks it into the Box, wraps it around what little he can see of the boy’s arms. To keep him in place, keep him from sliding around too much. The boy shifts in his sleep, mumbling names under his breath. So close to being Real, yet so far. 

He’ll need the last of the Lux, the Lux still absorbed by those children in the Guilds. Lux, delicate and determined, holding onto their hosts with every fiber of will the boy possesses. Which is a  _ lot,  _ by the way. 

The War...the Master of Masters sighs to himself, looking over at his book. Open on his desk to a picture of rusted Keyblades stuck in the rocky earth. When the children die, their Hearts released to Kingdom Hearts, the Lux will finally escape them. To join with the biggest mass of Lux inside the Box. 

Only when those deaths occur, when the Blade breaks, when the  _ World  _ breaks, will the boy finally be complete. Sleeping his way to the future.

“Such a lazy-head. What a wonder that you get anything done,” the Master teases the sleeping boy, tugging the chain to make sure all is secure. He pauses. “Sora.”

The name, for the first time spoken out loud, hums with is own power. 

Sora. 

That’s right, Sora. 

(All of this, I did for you.)

“See you in the future, Sora,” He hums, bending over to carefully slide the Box’s lid shut. The Master tilts his hooded head, considering. The Future, hm? Both sooner and later than what everyone thinks. 

“See you soon,” he adds, patting the Box gently. Tracing his symbol carved into its sides. 

The Master of Masters stands up, straightens his cloak. Takes his nameless Keyblade, looking it over one last time. Luxu’s just about here.

Showtime.

(The show must go on.)

(The story must end.) 

( _ See you in Shibuya, Sora. _ )


End file.
